


The Cacophony Of Trust

by Xoie



Category: Fortnite (Video Game), Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Mild Blood, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23678710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xoie/pseuds/Xoie
Summary: Taking place in the second season of Fortnite (this is an AU), Adrien must find a way to survive the bloodbath taking place on the island. His only hope? A partner by the name of Ladybug the mysterious Game Master told him about. Only she has the key to stop the acidic storm from swallowing the island whole and finally put an end to the slaughter. Will Adrien be able to find his partner? Will Ladybug trust him? What will become of their fate?Fast paced, thrilling, witty and filled with action and romance 🌚. Yes, this is a love story.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	The Cacophony Of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Fortnite AU I wrote for a challenge over on amino. (If you're wondering, I ended up placing first- honestly didn't think I would). 
> 
> With that said, this is from 2018 BUT it's my favorite piece ever (when it comes to AUs) and it's very dear to my heart. I reread it yesterday to gain some inspiration and I ended up fixing- well, not fixing because nothing was wrong with it- I guess I "upgraded" it by editing and adding a few lines here and there :D
> 
> Looking back at this and at the changes I've made, I'm proud to say that I've grown as a writer! 
> 
> I hope you have a tissue box near you, you're gonna need it
> 
> Also, this AU takes place during the second season of the game!

Adrien let out a silent grunt as his boot hit a gravel patch hidden within the tall, wild grass. Nevertheless he kept his swift pace, jumping occasionally to steer away from potholes.

Breathing heavily, he dove behind a great Pine tree, pressing his sweat clad back against the thick bark.

_’One, two, three, four.’_

Glancing around the trunk, he scanned the open, grassy clearing from behind his holographic, tinted glasses extending from his Cat-themed headset which shielded his eyes. Once he was sure he saw no movement, he ran, sprinting forth.

With his heart beating against his rib cage, he bolted in the direction he could hear distinct shots being thrown back and forth. Of course, that was only thanks to the headset he had found within a Golden chest.

The black, metallic cat-like ears protruding from the top of the headband acted like amplifiers. They allowed him to hear shots, footsteps, and even the aching groans of springs within rusty traps set by other players.

Needless to say, he had the biggest advantage to survive the bloodbath taking place on the Island, yet here he was, heading straight into the middle of a heated battle.

He was willingly running towards chaos.

The closer he got, the clearler the sound of stray bullets became. And then suddenly, as if expecting his presence, quiet settled in the air.

A message popped up behind the top right corner of his gradient green shades.

_”Ladybug321 eliminated Bee369 by an LMG”_

Smirking to himself, he picked up the pace. So that _was_ her firing earlier. He didn’t know she was a machine gun kind of girl, but then again, he didn’t really know her to begin with.

All he knew was that he had to find this ‘Ladybug’ and help her get to Tilted, the only city that survived the wave of terror which swallowed the Island whole. 

At least, that’s what his instructions were.

A chill crawled down his spine at the memory. The cool, steal-like voice that had squelched to life once he had put on the black headset had given him something dangerous- hope.

Hope that there was a way to stop this wagering war breathing down on the necks of all players. Hope that things didn’t have to be the way they were. Hope that the rule of kill or be killed could finally be put to rest.

Shaking his head, he continued running towards the gunshots, keeping note of the direction they were all coming from. Of course, in order to carry out his plan, he had to pay close attention to the whereabouts of a certain girl he was told to find.

Flicking his eyes to the right, his headset picked up the sound of faint footsteps crunching twigs and other leaves in the distance as soon as another message of termination popped up.

_She’s...heading into the woods?_

Tailing this girl was nearly impossible. It seemed as if she had no direction.

Coming to a stop behind a rather large boulder, Adrien lowered himself into a crouch. Tilting his head back, he glanced up through squinted eyes at the sky, taking in the deep purple and pink tinged within the blue of the late evening.

He decided at the end of the day, it didn’t matter if this ‘Ladybug’ chick had no direction. Considering the lining of the sky, the storm was closing in. He didn’t know when it would advance next, but judging by his map, he determined he had an hour at best.

Even if he didn’t find her now, the next time the storm would move, it would force everyone to move closer towards the center- towards Tilted.

Shrugging off, he loaded his thermal shotgun, finger idly fiddling with the trigger.

Sooner or later, he was bound to run into her.

* * *

He could see her.

Granted, though he had no idea what she looked like, he couldn’t hear anyone for miles and he had just received another notification of her third kill.

Slowly stalking close, he could make out her blood-red tank top that seemed to cling to her petite figure, a black leather jacket wrapped around her waist. Her midnight-blue hair was piled up into a messy bun coming undone, and her denim shorts along with her white kicks were stained with mud.

What caught his attention though, were the red headphones covered with black polka-dots resting around her neck.

And then, his gaze drifted downward as he noticed what she was so dearly clutching onto for life. She held a bright red pump shotgun. Well, shit.

He made a mental note to proceed with caution. One shot to the head with that and he would be done for. Of course, he just _had_ to step on a twig the very next second, sending a sharp crunch into the previously still air.

Biting down his tongue, he watched- thankfully concealed by a set of thick bushes- as she spun on her heel, weapon aimed and ready to fire. He could see her chest heaving and caught the slight shake of her arms as her bluebell eyes frantically searched the area.

It was here he noted the red paint around her eyes, looking as if it were spray-painted on. His metallic cat-ears picked up on her heavy breathing, rugged and uneven.

Whoa. Either she was exhausted from her last battle or scared to the bone. 

He didn’t know if he made a sound but her eyes flickered to the bushes. Immediately he froze, holding his breath.

_Da-thump, da thump, da-thump._

He could hear his heart thudding against the frame of his ribs, his blood gushing through his ears. The foam of his head set grew wet as sweat collected against his heated skin, trickling down from his hairline.

When she made no show of firing and instead lowered her weapon, Adrien let his shoulders slack as he drew a breath, letting it out silently through clenched teeth. What she did next however, left him utterly confused.

Taking out a blueprint, she raised a wall.

...and then another one. And then another.

_She’s...building?_

Curiosity took over has he skulked closer, brushing past the leaves to get a better look. He’d be honest if he said he didn’t ever take her to be a quick builder, especially since her weapon of choice was for short-range.

Huh. Maybe that’s why she kept heading towards wooded areas- so she could stock up on materials.

Slowly creeping out of the bulk of leaves, he carefully made his way towards what now looked like a miniature fort. Fingers coiling around the foregrip of his sniper, he squared his shoulders, listening intently.

For a second he thought she had bolted. But, that couldn't be right, he would have heard her running away if she had. Leaning his head forward, he tiptoed closer to the high, wooden wall.

His cat-ears caught the slightest brush of movement. No, she was definitely still here. In fact...he was pretty sure he could hear her breathing, soft and ragged. Stopping abruptly, he frowned.

That was weird.

The sound wasn’t coming from within the fort...no, in fact, if his sense of hearing and direction was accurate, it was almost as if she was right-

-Without warning, something big, firm, and _heavy_ came hurtling his way from behind and before he knew it, Adrien was down on his knees, cheek pressed into the dirt-littered grass bed.

The shock had rendered him powerless, incapacitated as the sheer realization of being lunged at sent a wave of both electricity and numbness through his nerves.

There he was, forcefully prostrated on the ground, anchored there by the concentrated pressure of a knee to his back.

He couldn’t see her, yet he still _felt_ the smirk that claimed her chapped lips.

The hairs on his back stood on end as he sensed her moving-no, aiming something at him. His eyes widened as the sound of a gun cock graced his ears, calling upon his ordeal.

In that moment, Adrien knew he messed up for the only thought that trampled over his rioting others was a single statement which supplicated for a better fate: _Holy Shit._

One would call it blasphemy, but for Adrien, it was like the whisper of a final prayer.

* * *

The amount of fury that took her insides by storm practically set fire to her whole being. Brows puckered and creased, Marinette locked her jaw as she pressed the blonde bastard harder into the ground.

She knew she was being followed. Call it gut instinct or whatever, but she _knew_ , dammit. For some time, she thought she was growing paranoid, but when she couldn’t shake the feeling no matter where she went, a part of her constricted and withered at the hands of cold, hard fear.

But all that changed the second she spotted a flick of blonde buried within a cluster of dark green. Her intuition put two and two together and she acted accordingly, slipping past his guard and jumping him from behind.

Oh, how he would _pay_.

Gritting her teeth, she lowered her gun, aiming right at the base of his skull. A storm raged within her eyes as she took one last look at his mop of golden blonde.

She could have sworn his hair was muckier but oh well, it didn’t matter. Huffing, her finger coiled around the trigger. The audacity he had, tracking her down like that, only to sneak up on her. Hadn't he tortured her enough?

A part of her throbbed at the memory which cascaded into her eyes.

She still heard the bullets, faint and in the distance. She always did when it came to him.

Shaking off the thought, Marinette dug her knee into his back. As she took her shot, she didn’t realize the boy she had pinned down beneath her had moved.

Instead of a clean bullet to the head, she had missed her initial target, hitting his shoulder instead...or she would have, had it not been deflected by a glowing blue light.

Her face paled as she realized she had merely shot off his shield. The thought weakened her hold, and before she knew it, the blonde was pushing off the ground.

Again, the sound of haunting gunshots echoed in her memory and something within her snapped. Shoving him from the side, she placed her feet on either side of his body as he fell back down.

This time, however, his back was pressed against the ground and Marinette’s eyes went wide at what she saw.

She expected to be met with cold, vacant, blue eyes but instead was surprised to see a set of rich, emerald greens.

This wasn’t Felix. In fact, he looked nothing like the scrawny bastard. Positioning her weapon, ready to attack, she frowned. If this blondie wasn’t Felix, then who the hell was he and why was he following her?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there princess, I’m not here to kill you if that’s what you think!”

She could sense the hint of panic in his tone as he raised his hands in surrender. Pitiful. Like there was anyway she was gonna fall for that that. Ha.

He must have registered her thoughts because his pupils dilated as he began to frantically wave his hands as if to showcase his earnestness.

“I’m not lying, I swear!”

Marinette eyed him, suspicion rich in her narrowed, bluebell irises. Shifting her hold on her weapon, she searched his gaze, the corners of her mouth pulled down in a slight frown.

“And I should believe the crap you’re spewing because?” she questioned, raising a brow, finger carefully resting on the trigger.

At this, he leveled both palms with his broad shoulders, turning them upside.

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that I could have easily sniped you if I wanted to but didn’t?”

Her eyes glanced at the weapon as he mentioned it, snapping back to his gaze to see if he was trying to play her. When he stared back, his green emeralds clear of any fabrication, she hesitated before slowly lowering her gun and straightening up. 

He let out a breath before getting to his feet himself.

_This is a bad idea._

A voice within her chimed.

No matter, her grip on her shotgun tightened. If he tried anything, she would easily raise a wall and shoot him just as she had done with others.

It was here, as he bent down to retrieve his previously discarded weapon that she noticed his cat-themed headset. Funny, she had heard the game master mention something like it.

A shiver slithered down her spine. Game master or not, the dude had one hell of a creepy voice; cool and void of emotion.

If she remembered correctly, he had mentioned a player wearing the headset that would help escort her to Tilted where she could (hopefully) put an end to the chaotic, purple storm eating away most of the island.

He had described the headset as nothing more than being cat-themed and black. At first, she had found it funny- who in their right mind would design a headset like that- until the game master disclosed the player's name-

“-Chat noir?”

She blinked, realizing she had blurt the name aloud. Great.

_You idiot, you don’t even know if that’s him!_

Smirking, the blonde slowly straightened, resting what looked like a thermal sniper on his shoulder.

“The one and only,” he gloated, throwing her a wink.

…

Marinette. Was. _Livid._

Who the hell did this kid think he was? Chat noir or not, he sure had another thing coming if tried anything funny.

Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she shot him a dubious look, a question dancing within her eyes.

“If you aren’t here to kill me, then what are you here for?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her weapon.

Her pulse pounded against her temples. What if he was really tricking her? The way his leather jacket stretched over his obviously toned arms indicated that he was lean and well built. But...well-built didn’t mean he was any good, right?

After all, she did manage to jump him... _only because he wasn’t paying any attention_.

He eyed her for a bit before shrugging, kicking the the grass with the edge of his boots’ toecap while taking a lanky step forward.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m here to help you...Ladybug?”

She visibly flinched at the sound of her username. She didn’t know how to feel about that. Then again, she knew his, so in a way, it made sense.

“Maybe,” she nodded at the headset, “where’d you get that.”

Reaching up, he tapped the metallic ears, “what? The kitty ears? Found them in a chest. This dude came on and told me to find you...and help you get to Tilted.”

His eyes tightened as he looked at her intently, his mouth drawn in a line.

Ice slid down Marinette’s spine as she registered his words. He...really was the partner the game master had told her about. She never thought he would actually show up, let alone try and help her.

Again, her thoughts carried her back to the memory of the sound of three haunting gunshots. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to get a grip.

Whoever Chat - oh good grief, did she really just give him a nickname - was, he hadn’t made any move to harm her. Opening her eyes, she bore her steely gaze into his green irises. Although her suspicions were still intact, she didn’t see anything that raised any red flags. Yet.

“Ok, let’s say I let you ‘escort’ me there or whatever, what do you get out of helping me?” she worded herself carefully, clutching onto her gun.

She didn’t know his motives yet so she couldn’t afford to let her guard down. Not even after he relaxed his previously tense shoulders.

Marinette studied him as he tilted his head, brushing back a few stray locks that flopped into his eyes. Sighing, his gaze shifted as he looked out, into the distance.

“Freedom.”

“What?”

He had said it so softly, she had barely caught it.

Dragging his gaze back to her, he shrugged, “you can stop the storm. If you do, it’ll finally give everyone freedom from this bloodbath.”

Her gut coiled and she felt like throwing up. Here was this complete stranger having such faith in her when she herself doubted her ability to fix this mess.

Suddenly, she felt exposed, stript down to the core. She knew she was the only one who could put an end to this, yet after Felix...

 _No_. She wouldn’t go down that road.

There was no way she could survive, let alone make it to Tilted. But now, looking at the blonde before her...maybe she had a chance after all. That is...if he didn’t turn on her.

* * *

Adrien grew anxious.

He could hear them.

Whoever ‘they’ were, they were close. Maybe even watching.

Ladybug chick had grown quite, lost in thought. He cringed. Maybe his answer had taken her by surprise? It didn’t matter.

What mattered was the fact that he had to play dumb. If he went into a defensive stance, whoever was lurking would start shooting. The fact they hadn’t yet was ironically, a relief.

It meant they had a short-range weapon. Good.

The only problem was that even though he really wanted to, he couldn’t reach for his gun to snipe them because it might freak out the raven head before him.

He feared she might mistake his actions for an attack and he would undoubtedly, wound up getting shot in the process. Not good.

_Crunch._

He hated how she was deaf to every sound the lurker was making. If only she had his headset.

Suddenly, She looked up, her eyes now soft.

“Ok, you can help me get to Tilted-”

Adrien internally let out a sigh of relief.

“-but do anything funny and consider yourself dead.”

Aaaand the threats began once again. Honestly, it was kind of cute.

Smirking he used this as an excuse to lift his weapon, “don’t worry, I already told you, if I wanted to kill you I would have done it much earlier. Trust me, princess, you have nothing to worry about.”

She deadpanned, rolling her eyes. Huffing, she planted her hands on her hips, leaning forward, “whatever you say, kitty-cat. Just keep those claws where I can see them- I don’t want to carry dead weight.”

At this, he raised his brows in amusement.

“You should know that I’ve never missed a shot. Ever.”

She let out a rather dry laugh before straightening up. Raising a brow, she folded her arms over her chest, cocking a hip to the side.

“Uh-huh.”

He smiled at the challenge in her playful tone. He was glad to see her breaking the ice she was frozen in earlier. Her stiff movements were now more fluid; relaxed and calm.

“You think I’m joking, princess?” he teased back. Boy was this girl in for a surprise.

Turning on his heel, he faced the cluster of trees. Waiting. Listening.

_Crunch, crunch._

In one, swift motion, he drew his weapon, looking through the scope to see a blob of yellow and orange moving; running. Baring his teeth, he aimed.

_Gotcha._

Click, boom. With a single bullet to the head, the figure collapsed, pinging a new message behind his glasses and a similar holographic one emitting from Ladybug’s headphones:

_Chat Noir322 eliminated Marco42k by a Thermal Sniper_

Turning around and ready to gloat in her face, Adrien stopped in his tracks, noticing the look of horror in her eyes.

Slowly, she turned her paled face to him, brows creasing together.

“We were- he- we would have...how?” she sputtered, now staring at him blankly, “how did you…”

“Get him?”

He smiled as she nodded, mystified.

Chuckling, he threw his gun over his shoulder, “I told you, I never miss,” throwing one last wink her way, he sauntered past her, heading west bound.

They couldn’t stand and chit chat there for too long. Staying idle was the perfect way to get killed. After all, they couldn’t afford to be sitting ducks.

Ladybug must have picked up on the fact for she came jogging up next to him a moment later, falling in stride.

There were only twelve people left on the Island.

The storm would swallow it whole in a week.

They could do this.

* * *

They had been walking for hours.

Marinette didn’t complain, though. If it weren’t for Chat - the nickname stuck - she would’ve died. Not only that, she would have been plunged into the storm.

She shivered at the thought of feeling acid rain beating down on bare skin, charing it, little by little with every drop. Death by the storm was worse than being shot, mostly because the process was slow and painful.

She would constantly sneak glances at him from time to time, only to see him concentrated in thought. She wondered what monstrosities went about in his head.

The way he had killed that player...although the stalker would have killed them, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy with the fact that Chat had killed him with no remorse, as if he was nothing but a dummy.

Even _she_ felt guilty about getting her hands bloody.

Cautiously glancing his way, she noticed the way his eyes were cool, relaxed, fixed forward on the path they were taking. She could tell his muscles were rigid, ready to attack with the way his fingers faintly jerked every so often.

She wondered how many targets he had to practice on to get this good. If she were honest, she was a little scared. Thinking about it now, the fact she was able to even pin him down was...miraculous.

Suddenly, her mind crept back to the same, wretched memory and the sound of gunshots stabbed the wound in her chest. Her eyes misted over and she tore her gaze from him, returning her attention to her surroundings.

Yet even so, her mind still wandered. Now, her only thought:

_I_ _wonder what happened to him that made him like this…_

A killing machine.

* * *

It had been three days.

Adrien was amused with how he had managed to get himself in this position.

She was just a girl.

Yet even so, seeing the way her gaze would grow distant at times, hearing her silently weeping late at night when she thought he couldn’t hear, something tapped itself within his heart. He found himself...caring about her.

It was a feeling that struck him with surprise. He had never cared about anyone, not even his father. The old man had left him at a young age to research about a way to prevent the storm from forming.

The stupid bastard ended up making it advance and then didn’t bother to return to take care of the family he had left behind.

Shaking out of his thoughts, he turned his attention to the gravel path before it was so easily stolen by her. She hadn’t done anything in particular- only adjusted her weapon, and just like that, his eyes snapped to her face.

He noted the constant trepidation swimming within her gorgeous, bluebell eyes yet she always remained stoic. She was a fierce one. Smiling to himself, he realized that he had been staring because a second later, her eyes found his.

“Mind telling me when you’re planning to stop staring at me every few seconds, hot shot?”

Adrien made a face. He wasn’t really a big fan of the nickname she had given him.

At this, she laughed. He had a feeling she relished in teasing him to annoyance. Quirking his lips, he shot her a smug look, pinning his striking gaze on her.

“Maybe. When you stop looking so beautiful.”

The speed at which the spark of gaiety left her eyes made him realize what he had let out so casually. Her lips drew a line and she jerked her head forward, tearing her gaze from his, her eyes going tight.

Adrien watched her visibly swallow and complete and utter dread filled him to the brink. Great, how stupid could he get?

He didn’t mean to say it, the words kinda just...came out. Piqued with his lack of filter, he forced himself to get a grip and focus on listening for attackers.

He knew he shouldn’t be disappointed with her reaction.

Then...why was that the only feeling thrashing within his chest?

* * *

It had been four days and Marinette mentally kicked herself for-

-No. She would not admit it. Admitting it would mean that it was true, which it clearly wasn’t...right?

There was absolutely _no_ way she was falling for Chat, right? _R_ _ight?_

“Hey, you ok?”

Her heart skipped a beat and she felt this inexplicable kind of warmth flooding her insides. Closing her eyes, she rested the back of her head against the boulder.

She didn’t know when he had developed the idea to care about her well-being- he certainly hadn't cared if she got snagged by a thorn when they had first met. And the way he’d always stare at her every few minutes wasn’t helping either.

She didn’t understand where this little crush came from. Her heart was tired of speeding up everytime their fingers brushed.

“Just fine,” she sighed, relieved they had escaped the ambush they had practically walked into earlier.

Her lips still tingled.

_He had told her to build and she hadn’t understood why. She didn’t know why he had been whispering either. She was about to tell him to stop acting weird when his shoulders had tensed and before she knew it, his thumb bummed against her lips, causing her to shut up and go rigid._

The shiver that had crept down her spine had left her famished- which wasn’t good.

Opening her eyes, she looked to see that he was already staring at her, concern filling his gentle gaze. The sight caused her cheeks to flare and her heart sped up, realizing that this was now the second time he had saved her life.

Oh no, it was far worse than what she had expected.

She had it bad.

The realization kind of made her want to knock some sense into herself because in what world does someone develop such intense feelings for another within the span of four days?

She paused.

Offering him a weak smile, she lowered her gaze.

That was because this was no longer the world she knew. This was a world of chaos and destruction.

* * *

Six days.

Nine players.

They were finally on the outskirts of Tilted and even from there, they could see the smoke reaching for the purple sky.

Adrien didn’t know when or why but somehow, he had developed feelings for Ladybug. He didn’t know if it was because of her fiery nature or the fact that was she was an all-out badass.

Whatever it was, it was nothing compared to what he had found out last night.

_He didn’t know how they ended up talking about their past but for some reason, he didn’t bother raising his walls and changing the subject. There was something so tranquil about her that he found himself just spilling his guts._

_He told her everything. His father, the way he had left, how his mother suffered, watching his mother die at the hands of her demons, everything._

_She had listened intently, shifting closer to him without either of them noticing. The comfort her touch held made him realize just how far gone he was._

_It was when she told him about Felix that he truly realized the depth of his feelings._

_Before she met him, she had a squad and had heard the bullets that had claimed their lives. It had happened after she had found the headphones._

_She believed the game master and had wanted to get to Tilted, but her team was not so merry with the idea. Frustrated, she had left- it was at this part where her face had crumpled and Adrien wished he could smooth out the crease in her brows._

_She had just climbed the top of the crater-dusty- when she had heard them; three distinct gunshots._

_Her sobs came at first, soft, then deepened with every heave and Adrien broke at the sight. In between tearful heaves, she told him what followed were the names of her squad members, popping up on her holographic screen, all terminated by a bolt at the hands of Felix- a former squad member who had left the group for reasons unknown._

_According to her, he had always been closed off and void. After the incident, she had grown paranoid and had ran as fast as she could. She told him she still heard them- the gunshots- in her head. They haunted her to this day. She had said it was her mind's way of reminding her of the guilt she carried. She felt partially responsible for their deaths. If she had only stayed behind, maybe she could have defended them. She wasn't capable of continuing after that. Her sobs wouldn't allow her to._

Adrien swore that if he ever came across the bastard, he would gladly do the honor of putting him out just like the way the vermin had put out his previous comrades. A clean bullet to the head.

Right now, however, they had to bunker up for the night. He didn’t know why, but Adrien had an ominous feeling about what tomorrow would hold.

* * *

There was no time.

Five players left, all of them climbing the clock tower to seek refuge from the storm that would surely end all their lives unless one of them stood alone as a victor.

All five, baring their teeth came at them like rabid dogs, but Marinette would not falter. She had climbed the spiraling steps to the top and before her, a single red and black polka-dotted chest rested.

“Anytime, princess!” she heard him shout over the loud shots of his rifle.

Chat had pushed her up the tower, firing down the defence walls the players were putting up. They had tried to reason with them but their words had fallen upon deaf ears.

None of them wanted to listen. All of them, too far gone in their thirst for blood.

The wind whipped her hair as she stood atop a tower with fallen walls.

_Boom._

Two players.

Fumbling with her headphones, she opened a slot which held a small key, big enough to fit in her palm. Carefully inserting it in the keyhole, she twisted the end and heard the top of the chest spring open with a pop.

_Click, boom._

One player.

Holding her breath, she raised a trembling hand, apprehension growing within her as her fingers rested on the lid.

She did it.

Her heart violently thudded against her rib cage as she opened the chest, only to be blinded by a blue light. Yelping, she shielded her eyes, staggering backwards and falling to the ground. 

And then, after a moment’s peace, the city began to shake.

Form the east side emerged a rocket, growling to life. Marinette watched with horror as it climbed higher and higher, leaving behind a streak of soot and dust.

Unable to tear away her gaze, her blood ran cold as she witnessed it explode in the sky. And then, her heart plummeted to her gut as she heard the polyphonic outburst of metal imploding against the sun kissed clouds of dusk. 

Her eyes went wide as her mouth hung open.

There, in the bluish-purple sky, was a crack.

It was incredulous, yes, yet there it was.

She lost all feeling in her legs as she saw it spread, creating hideously beautiful fragments twinkling in the rays of the setting sun.

The final shot from Chat’s riffle brought her back to the present.

As her hollow eyes, lined with unshed tears assessed the situation, relief mingled with desolation filled her lungs. It was just them.

The deafening silence was a catharsis to her suffering.

It was over.

Spinning on her heel, she was ready to ask Chat what they were to do...until her eyes caught the movement of a curtain of purple. The storm- somehow, it was still advancing.

Terror gripped her throat once again as her eyes widened tenfold. Chat seemed to notice and turned to see the one thing he had dreaded, come to life.

She heard him swear under his breath as he spun on his heel, doing a full 360 before turning back to her, his eyes wide and filled with fear and...betrayal?

And then, his hands were gripping onto her shoulders, gentle, yet firm.

“I thought you said you could stop it,” his voice was heavy, broken.

“I-I don’t know. I thought- I opened the chest! That’s all he told me to do. He told me it would stop it. All of it-”

“-BULLSHIT.”

She flinched at his uproar. He had never raised his voice on her like that.

Her hands trembled and her fingers went numb, turning to ice. She could feel the lump growing within her throat.

Dropping his hands from her shoulders, his eyes swelled with anguish. He stared at her for a moment, a flash of emotions passing his face, one by one until he finally broke.

Marinette braced herself for the worst.

“Is this why you brought me here? To trick me? Have me kill everyone just so you could shoot me in the head and win?”

Oh god. Oh no, this- this was far worse than anything. Her heart throbbed as it cracked for a reason she didn’t know was possible.

“No,” she croaked, the sound coming out all mangled.

Swallowing thickly, she tried again, “I- I don’t know what’s happening. I did what he told me to do, Chat. I would never use you- not like this. Not after you’ve saved me more times than I can count on my one hand.”

Her voice was falling apart, thick and laced with emotion. She was scared, shivering at the turn of events.

The storm was closing in on them, and if she was to die here, before him, she didn’t want to go knowing that he thought her to be like the blue-eyed vermin who took the lives of her only family. The vermin who toyed with people, killing them if it meant a chance at survival.

Ironic, though, her death would be the same as his. She was a little disappointed to see that Felix had died at the hands of the storm. Yet the thought of him staggering forth until his very flesh melted off his being quenched her thirst for vengeance.

She saw Chat flex his hands, his eyes setting intently upon her. He looked distant, as if concentrated on something else yet too stubborn to tear his gaze from hers.

Suddenly his pupils dilated and he snarled, yanking the headset from his head and smashing it to the ground before his features crumpled. Tears swelled his eyes as he finally shifted his gaze from her face to now stare at the broken chunk of metal.

She heard him gasp with a hitch in his voice. And then, he was sobbing.

“...Chat?” she whispered, her own voice now falling apart as she watched his shoulders shake with every heave.

Swallowing, she shuffled closer, one arm extending, hesitant to lay a hand on him in fear that he might shatter upon contact.

Her heart whimpered, begging for her to just open her arms and collect him into a tight embrace. She couldn’t stand to see him in such a state- didn’t ever IMAGINE to see him in such a state. How could she when all he had ever been was a wall of teflon and steel?

Shoving her doubts to the side, she gently planted her hand on his shoulder, turning him so that he faced her. His face was screwed in pain, his eyes tightly shut and streaming down rivers.

“Chat. Look at me,” she started softly.

Before she could continue, however, his hand clasped around her wrist as his eyes shot open, looking dull as ever and coiled with guilt.

“I believe you,” he said, his voice, hoarse.

She blinked at him, at this sudden shift in attitude. He stared at her for a moment before a new wave of tears filled his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Ladybug. I-”

“-Marinette. It’s Marinette.”

An elated spark took his eyes at the sound of her name before it went out with the speed at which it had appeared. Marinette watched as remorse filled what had been but sheer pleasure in his emeralds a moment ago, and the fact that she didn’t understand why had her gut coiling tightly within her.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette.”

The rapid manner in which her thoughts swamped her head left her dazed. She didn’t understand.

“What are you apologizing for, Chat?”

She wished she had never asked.

It was as if someone had stuck a shard of glass between her ribs, withering it deeper into her flesh until she lost all feeling. That is what the smile he gave her did; that forlorn quirk of the ends of his lips.

Before she could comprehend, his hand was lifting his rifle, a single bullet left in its chamber. He let go of his hold on her and took a step back.

_Wait. Is he...no, he wouldn’t._

Marinette watched with swelling eyes as he cocked the weapon, just a step away from her, his eyes never leaving hers.

“There’s no way of stopping the storm, Marinette. He tricked you. He tricked us.”

Her heart fell, plummeting to its demise. Her body went numb as all she could do was stare as Chat- the boy she had so easily fallen for- lifted his weapon, taking aim.

The muzzle of his gun carefully lined with her forehead, just a breath away.

“I never miss.”

That’s when her heart hit the concrete lining of her stomach and shattered, releasing a feeling of electricity to course through her body, causing it to act without her consent as she witnessed what he did next.

* * *

Adrien felt his face pale as he realized the storm hadn’t stopped advancing.

Fury took over as the feeling of betrayal was just too overwhelming for him to contain. He felt sick, cheated, and lied to.

And here he thought he had found a girl who he could trust.

The way she looked at him, petrified, nagged at him to stop; to try and reason with her.

His rationality overpowered the pleading of his heart and he blew up in her face.

“BULLSHIT.”

He heaved, breathing heavily, anger and rage coursing through his blood. His heart broke at her sight and he had to know.

Was all of this, the bond they had grown so quickly the past seven days, was it all...fake? Make-belief?

Licking his lips, he shot her with an accusation he prayed was false; that it wasn’t true. That what they had developed was _real_.

“Is this why you brought me here? To trick me? Have me kill everyone just so you could shoot me in the head and win?”

The way her face fell unravelled some of the tension constricting his chest.

“No,” she croaked, the sound coming out all mangled.

It was music to his ears.

_Then why._

“I- I don’t know what’s happening. I did what he told me to do, Chat. I would never use you- not like this. Not after you’ve saved me more times than I can count on my one hand.”

He wanted to believe her.

He wanted to believe every bit of it so bad, yet a part of him, the only rational side which didn’t yearn for her told him she was lying to his face and just the mere idea set him ablaze.

Before he could interrogate her any further, his headphones squelched to life and the fire raging within him stilled.

The cool, apathetic voice returned and Adrien didn’t know why, but he could hear a hint of emotion buried deep within its tone; complacency.

_“Good work, Chat noir.”_

Adrien shivered, the man’s voice hitching a memory from the back of his head. The voice sounded familiar- of course, he had heard it before- the first time he had put on these damn headphones. But something within him nagged at the idea that that wasn't the reason why the stealy voice struck a cord within his head.

What he heard next numbed his entire being.

_“Now, take your aim and kill her.”_

His heart collided against his ribs, cracking the very bones which encapsulated it.

The hairs on his arms stood on end as he bled out cold sweat. They were being watched- had been this entire time.

The question was, from where?

An impatient sigh accompanied the so called, ‘‘Game Master’s’’ next set of words,

_“she’s not lying. There’s no way to stop the storm unless one player emerges as victor.”_

He felt sick. Somehow, he always knew that, yet he dared to believe there was another way; that bloodshed wasn't the only answer. His knees nearly buckled, but he wouldn’t let it show. If they were really being watched, he would raise his steel walls of teflon.

Another squelch sounded.

_“Take your aim and kill her.”_

The Game Master wasn't asking anymore. This was an order.

_Fuck that._

“Adrien, kill the girl.”

He didn’t flinch upon hearing his name. Of course the Game Master would know it, how couldn’t he? After all, it was him who gave him the headset.

Instead, he tried to ignore his orders and stared at her, into those cobalt eyes that gleamed in obsecration, filled with a yearning he couldn’t describe.

_“If you don’t kill her, the storm will kill you both. I’m trying to save you, son.”_

_Son_.

His senses came to a screeching halt as the air in his throat got caught, nearly suffocating him. 

_Son_.

It couldn’t be-

 _Son_.

But it was.

The Game Master, the reason why his voice sounded so familiar- it was because he was his lowlife of a father. Because of him, he had lost his mother, and now, he would lose the girl that had captured his heart.

Something within him snapped and with a vicious, beastly snarl, he yanked off the headset and threw it to the ground with as much force as his arm could muster.

The action seemed to startle Ladybug but he couldn’t focus on that. He was breathing too hard and ragged, swelling with anger and guilt to focus on anything but the words that had sealed his fate.

He was to kill her here in order to survive.

Something stirred within the pit of his stomach and he gasped, his breath hitching.

And then, like the way slumber so suddenly falls prey to its victims, he was sobbing.

What a mess all of this was and it was all his fault. If only he had recognized the voice sooner. If only he had questioned her. If only he had asked her how she was going to stop the storm-

_So what?_

That’s right, so what? What difference would it have made?

He had heard the words loud and clear with his own two ears, there was no way to stop the storm.

No matter what he could have done, no matter what path he could have taken, in the end, his fate would be the same.

He would have to kill her.

“...Chat?” he heard her whisper, his heart clenching at her broken voice.

He couldn’t.

There was no way he could live with himself knowing he had killed her. There would be nothing left for him if she died. There was nobody left, nobody but the two of them.

He closed his eyes and began shaking like a kitten left in downpour. There was no escaping this, it was either her...or him that had to go.

He knew the world was inequitable and cruel. He just didn’t know how much until now.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder, gently spreading its warmth.

“Chat. Look at me,” she whispered softly.

He shot open his eyes to see her expression filled with concern, her eyes tight with worry. Before she could continue, he took a hold of her wrist, boring his fervid gaze into hers.

“I believe you,” he forced the words from his drying mouth.

The look she gave him, so innocent and worrisome crippled his heart and he felt a new wave of tears threatening to spill from his bloodshot eyes. She had no idea.

“I’m so sorry, Ladybug. I-”

“-Marinette. It’s Marinette.”

Her name.

For a moment, he allowed himself the pleasure of being given the knowledge of knowing her name.

_Marinette._

It was sweet, gentle, and easy on the tongue.

Everything about her was beautiful- right down to her name. The spark in his eyes diminished as he realized what he had yet to tell her.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette.”

His insides tingled at the mention of her name.

“What are you apologizing for, Chat?”

_Adrien. It’s Adrien._

He had nearly said the words, yet they got caught somewhere in his throat.

He took in her figure, gave those beautiful orbs of shattered blue on last look before the ends of his lips curled up, crestfallen.

Dropping his hold on her wrist, he lifted his rifle, much too aware of the one, single bullet left in its chamber. Ironic, it was, as if her name had been engraved into its bulky, metal body. He wondered if his father had known that he’d end up with just one.

Taking a step back, he watched her expression shift, his heart at its breaking point.

Bracing himself, he cleared his head of any doubt. With his eyes growing despondent, he told her what his bastard of a father had told him.

“There’s no way of stopping the storm, Marinette. He tricked you. He tricked us.”

Lifting his weapon, he memorized her every feature, delicate yet littered with harsh lines of stress. The curve of her puckered brows, the splotch of mud on her cheek, the hue of her rosy lips.

He had made up his mind.

If she didn’t exist alongside him in this vast land with nothing but the eerie whisper of the dead as their bodies lay scattered throughout the island, lifeless and rotting, he truly would have nothing left to live for.

He didn’t want her to die.

And to make sure that she lived...well, he chuckled inwardly.

He took his aim, carefully keeping her gaze. Her pupils hadn’t dilated, meaning she had no idea what he was going to do. Good.

There wasn’t a shred of hesitance within him as he said his parting words, “I never miss.”

Finger secured on the trigger, he closed his eyes- a horrible mistake.

For when at the very last second, he turned the muzzle to face his own chest, he felt the familiar weight of a heavy body colliding into him like it had, seven days ago.

It was too late.

He had already fired.

The sight of pure horror graced his eyes as they shot open.

For the first time in Adrien’s life, he missed.

There, in the side of her rib, he could see a dark shade of crimson blossoming, like the unfurling of a delicate rose. He heard her breath hitch and felt her shudder against him.

It was here where his heart stilled and he lost all sense of rationality.

The hideous cry that tore through his throat was loud enough to wake the dead.

* * *

Marinette knew what numbness felt like.

It was a feeling that stilled everything within a body, all the emotions, chaos, comprehension; everything.

It was a feeling that exhausted a person’s ability to withstand turmoil to such an extent that even amidst a bustling cacophony of tumult, the world seemed blank. An empty canvas- no, a canvas cleared of colour with a splash of startling, white paint; it’s toxic fumes soaking into the cloth.

That, that is what numbness felt like.

She had felt numbness once.

She wished she could say she felt it now.

The blood curdling scream that pierced through her ears seemed to wake her senses with a jolt.

With her cheek still pressed against his chest, Marinette could feel the rumble that came with it and the erratic pulse of his heart.

But the one thing she was made aware of the most was the blow her right rib had just taken. What made the pain unbearable was the fact that she could _feel_ the bullet encapsulated deep within her flesh.

Her muscles constricted, trying to rid of the bulk of metal digging into her. Gritting her teeth, she tightly clamped her jaw shut, tears now forming behind closed eyes.

Soon, her legs gave out and she was crumbling down. Strong arms encircled her before she could hit the wooden floor.

“Marinette.”

It was a broken whisper.

Hissing through her teeth, she blinked back the water from her fluttering eyes before her bleary vision focused in on his face. His brows and mouth were pulled down, secured in place with dark, defining creases.

The sheer horror in his piercing green eyes was enough to stall her heart.

And then, she was falling.

Her side throbbed, screaming at her to rip out the bullet tunneling within her flesh. Her vision went dim and the ringing in her drums became unbearably prominent, causing a migraine to slowly come forth.

She could feel her blood, warm and sticky, clinging to her now-tattered top. Her head lolled to side before something shifted beneath her and gently moved her body so that her head was now resting atop muscle.

Then, she felt a shooting pain unlike any other. Her lips parted, yet nothing but a faint croak escaped the swelling of her throat as her face obscured in agony. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was lying in Chat’s lap as his hands rested firmly against her side, putting pressure on the wound.

So that’s where the pain was coming from.

She winced, hissing through her teeth as he pushed harder.

Her vision played tricks on her, spinning the world round and around, going foggy then zeroing in.

Swallowing hard, she willed herself to hold the reigns of her sanity and pull them taut. She had to focus.

It took a moment but she was able to register what was going on. She had taken a bullet and was bleeding out. Chat was trying to stop the blood flow.

His eyes glanced down and went wide.

Suddenly, his hands went limp.

“You’re awake.”

His voice was hoarse, uneven.

She was awake? Huh, maybe she had blacked out.

Flashing him a meek, watery smile, she closed her eyes yet again, her lids hot and heavy.

There was a light tap to her cheek, “hey.”

Opening her eyes, she bit down on her tongue as she felt another shot of pain searing through her flesh, almost like a lighting rod.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shifting a bit so that his...leather jacket was tightly wound around her.

Her eyes traveled up his arms until she was staring at him. All of him.

He was wearing a white Tee and boy was it petite. The fabric stretched across his broad chest, crimson patterns smeared all across. It took her a minute to realize the marks were actually blood.

Her blood.

A shudder hitched within her breath as the reality of what she had done finally sunk in.

She had taken a bullet- a freaking bullet to her side at an extremely close range. It must have penetrated through her layers of muscle. That explained why she was bleeding so much.

No wonder she felt so weak and weighed down.

It took a lot of effort, but she managed to lift a shaking hand before her face and her mind blanked at how pale it looked.

She...wasn’t going to survive this.

And for some sick, twisted reason, she was ok with that.

It didn’t strike her as shocking because somewhere deep within her, she had already known this. She was ok with dying here in his lap.

If it meant he would survive, she would gladly go with no regret.

No, that was a lie.

The only regret she’d have would be going without telling him how she felt. She knew he wouldn’t feel the same, maybe even call her crazy but at least she would have let it out.

She was so occupied with her thoughts that she didn’t realize he was staring at her until his hand caught hers. Warmth coursed through her arm as he gently lowered it.

“Why would you do that, huh? Are you insane?” he let out, aggravated and broken.

She stared at him, at the shine of twinkle in his eyes, the crease nested between his brows and the pull of his lips.

Then, with a faint shrug and a voice so utterly weak, “I couldn’t let you die. Not after you’ve saved my life more times than I can count.”

He studied her, crestfallen. His eyes were tight and laced with emotion. It looked as if he were contemplating something before he ultimately shifted, laying her on the wooden floor.

Marinette closed her eyes, holding back a heavy groan from the pain. Her side was scorching and her limbs felt heavy. She could feel herself slipping away with the passing of every second, much like a dimming light bulb.

She felt a new wave of tears forming behind closed lids.

The fear of not being able to breathe struck her and she had to remind herself that it was ok.

That it would be ok.

That soon, all the pain, the agony, the throbbing, it would all be over and she would go numb. Permanently.

She would finally join her team mates.

Then suddenly, she regained feeling in her arms. Then her legs, then her toes. Shooting open her eyes, she softly gasped swallowing down the saliva that had collected in the back of her throat.

She could breathe. There was no pain.

She didn’t feel weightless and she was panicking because she didn’t know why. Had she died?

The grunt that came from next to her told her she hadn’t. If she was still alive, why wasn’t she on the brink of death?

That’s when it clicked and her eyes widened as she began to hyperventilate.

“No,” it tumbled from her lips in a panic.

She tried moving but her hands were pinned down by a strong force.

“NO!” she repeated, this time more desperate.

It took great effort, but she managed to turn her head to the side and witness Chat sitting on his ankles, leaning forward, his one hand on her side while the other held down both her hands.

Immediately, her heart dropped down to her gut and her blood ran cold.

“STOP!” the scream that tore through her throat caused her face to go red.

She squirmed in place, struggling to get out of his hold. He was healing her. Correction- he was giving up his health to her. He was killing himself so she could live.

Tears blurred her vision as she continued to struggle against his vipor-like hold.

“ _No, no, no, no, **NO**_!" she was sobbing at this point, "you can’t do this, Chat. Fuck you, dammit.” Her words were watered and sluggish, coming out as a childish whine.

She could breathe but she was suffocating in her own alarm.

“Sh-shut up, Marinette. Stop moving.”

She felt sick. He sounded so weak, so exhausted and brittle.

“What are you doing?” she pleaded, her voice vibrating with tension.

His eyes were focused on her wound but they snapped to her anyway. He watched her with those emerald greens before a lazy grin split his lips.

“Doing what I do best- saving your ass,” he chuckled softly.

_NO._

It wasn’t fair. For once, _she_ was supposed to save _him_.

She watched him shudder, grunting with a wince.

Breaking at the sight, she continued her pleading, “that’s enough. Chat-”

“-Adrien,” he glanced at her with a soft smile, “it’s Adrien.”

Her heart stilled as her eyes went wide.

“Agreste,” she whispered, staring at him with an incredulous gaze.

He had told her that his father had left his family at a young age but he hadn’t told her why.

His dad- father, he was the one responsible for unleashing the storm. In a sense, Chat-Adrien, should be the one to win the game.

So then…

“Why.”

She had said it so faintly she almost thought he didn’t hear her.

Why bother to save her?

He blinked at her before his eyes softened and a forlorn smile adorned his lips.

Purple swallowed them whole.

The rain was merciless, beating down on them and pricking their skin with scorching heat.

Marinette watched as he lowered himself on his forearm and hovered above her, shielding most of her body from the downpour. Her pulse quickened in fervor as her face grew unbearably hot. He was only a touch away. The acid infused water trickled down his skin, falling to the wooden floor in beads from the tips of his slick, golden blonde hair.

She could see him withstanding the pain and her heart ached.

“Why?” she repeated, this time carefully reaching up to push back his wet bangs.

He hesitated, almost as if he were debating to say whatever it was that he wanted to say next.

“Would you believe me if I say that it’s because…”

Her brows creased as she saw him shut his eyes and shudder momentarily.

“Adrien?”

The way his name rolled off her tongue was ravishing. She could tell by the way his lids immediately opened and the way his face faintly lit up that he liked the way she said it too.

He kept her gaze, a battle going on in his glowing eyes.

He was struggling, she could tell because his balance gave out and he fell to the ground. Sitting up in a flash, she scooted towards him so that she could place his head in her lap.

“Adrien?” her voice was more anxious this time, begging him to stay afloat.

God, how did she even end up here? This wasn't what she had planned.

His eyes grew distant and her stomach lurched. Now, it was her turn to lightly tap him on the cheek.

The rain was burning her skin. She could feel her body screaming at her to find shelter but she ignored it. All of it.

He blinked a few times before fixing her with a stare so intense, she almost asked him what was wrong.

And then, he was smiling, his eyes finally going half lidded.

Her fingers iced over as her heart stilled.

She was losing him.

He was going to die, right here, in her arms.

And in some sick, twisted way, she was ok with that too.

Her eyes misted over but she stayed true to her stoic ways.

It was as if the chaos ringing within her mind came to an oblique silence as she simply stared at his weak, wilting figure.

She truly was ok with him dying in her arms. 

Why? Because she knew that there was nothing she could do to help him. All she could do was helplessly watch. Watch as the light in his eyes grew dimmer by the second. Watch as his skin blanched. Watch as the pain engulfed within him amplified.

She wasn’t one to ever give into false hope, so why should she now?

Swallowing down thickly, she gingerly pushed back the wet bangs that clung to his slick forehead.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, his lips parted and out came a staggering, broken whisper.

“Marinette,” his palms slid down her arms, finding her hand and giving it a final squeeze, a final goodbye-

_*Me while writing: Wow, I’m making this so much more dramatic than it needs to be. smh*_

-Her breath hitched as she shook her head, brows creased and bottom lip caught between her teeth.

All she could do was ask, “why?” barely being able to voice the thought through her tightening throat.

Why _had_ he saved her? Why couldn’t he just let her die? Why couldn’t he just let her end her misery and failure?

“Because,” she swore she heard him chuckle, “would you believe me if I said-” snapping his eyes shut, he winced, squeezing her hand to relieve some of the pain.

This was the second time he had said it. Would she believe what?

Grunting, he opened his eyes, his gaze slicing through her very being.

“-if I said that it’s because I…I love you?”

_Click._

Her mind shut off as she gaped at him blankly, mouth left open in a slight “o”.

Suddenly, she felt the sizzling heat of every droplet of rain pelting upon her. Her mouth went dry yet her throat felt slick, heavily coated with mucus.

Hot tears stung her tired eyes as she casted him with a look of pure heartache. Her body, now curtained with her own grief and despondency, began to shake.

She looked down at him, at his glittering emerald eyes, now waning in the purple hue of their surroundings. Then at his mop of golden hair, weighed down and sticking together.

It wasn’t fair.

He couldn’t do that.

He couldn’t drop that bomb shell of a confession on her and wilt away the very next minute.

Her breath hitched as his fingers slipped into hers and she found herself choking back her sobs.

Pulling down her trembling lips into a broken frown, she shook her head, watching as the last of the light within his eyes disappeared while fervently squeezing his hand in hopes of keeping him alive. Present. Next to her. Living.

She wanted to throw up.

What she felt next was inexplicable.

It was a flash of emotions; pain, anger, sorrow, disbelief, and more, all too much for her to process and comprehend. For the minute she’d try and pin down the raging beast within her, snarling against the strains, everything she felt would blur into a haze.

She was left watching in defeat as his lids finally fluttered shut, neck limped and head rolled back. The agony which followed cut her open, rubbing salt deep into the fresh wound.

Unable to voice her own confession in time, she realized that it was too late. Her state of shock had caused her to go mute.

He loved her and she, him, but she wasn’t able to tell him in time.

The jolly sound of, ‘winner’ rang from her headphones and that’s when Marinette broke.

Clutching onto his lifeless hand, she shook, gasping for air. Her lungs burned and her head buzzed. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't _breathe_.

Registering his death was like a gunshot to her own head.

Grabbing at her dampened hair with her other hand, she finally let it out- the hideous sob she so carefully had held down. The feeling of loss was far too overwhelming and she found her losing herself.

Solitude had never struck her this hard. The rain had completely soaked her, the acid slowly ebbing away her flesh. 

Her hair fell in clumps, dislodged from her scalp. Midnight blue thread littered the ground around her, the droplets of rain now hissing against her raw, scrubbed skin.

She didn’t feel any of it.

She only felt alone.

The last one standing in this vast, empty island.

Looking at his limp form through watery eyes, then to the bodies lying motionless around her, that’s when Marinette realized that in this world, dying is better than winning.

For if you win, there’s nothing left to live for.

She sat there, hallow as ever, trying to snivel away the treachery that fate had struck her with.

Idly playing with his fingers, her thumbs traced the scabs on his cold, lifeless hand as her irritated tearducts leaked silent tears. Her tired eyes shifted to her side and landed upon a discarded weapon glowing in the rain.

It was as if it was calling to her, whispering such sweetness into her ears. It didn't take much for her to succumb to her own fate.

After all, she was mentally drained, physically exhausted, and emotionally abused, all but by her own misgivings.

Trembling hands loaded a pistol. Shaky fingers coiled around a trigger.

She down casted her despondent gaze to his lifeless form.

“...I love you too-”

Marinette clamped her eyes shut, shivering in the rain. Giving his limp hand one final squeeze, she raised the pistol to her temple.

_-and I'm sorry._

An echo of a single gunshot rang through the air.

And just like that, it was over.

Finally over.

**Author's Note:**

> :D
> 
> Yep. They all die.
> 
> I know the summary said love story but you should have known that judging by the tags, this is a love tragedy (」ﾟﾛﾟ)｣
> 
> I remember changing the ending to this when I first wrote it because happy ever afters are overrated- angst all the way 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this!💕💕


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